


moving day

by syari



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, HP: EWE, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 09:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13855251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syari/pseuds/syari
Summary: Draco helps Pansy move into her new apartment. Pansy helps Draco wrap his (overly inflated) head around some new concepts.





	moving day

**Author's Note:**

> just a little drabble that might later be incorporated into a larger work. enjoy!

"I never really saw you living in a place like this," Draco puffed as he muscled the table into the exact right place.

"Oh, I don't know. I've always been partial to my comforts, but there's something about having a small place to call entirely your own, wouldn't you say? A little to the left, there." Pansy kicked her feet up on the dizzyingly patterned ottoman she'd dug out of a bargain furniture store Draco had begged her not to enter.

Shooting her a glare, he pulled the coffee table exactly one centimeter to the left. "Somewhere like the Weasel's Burrow, you mean? I couldn't really picture you in such a ramshackle little hut, though," he teased.

Pansy hummed, slumped back in the rather plush armchair he'd picked out to go with her curtains. "I think it's charmingly quaint, actually."

Draco turned to meet his best friend's eyes with mounting horror. "No. Absolutely not, no."

Pansy smirked, checking her nails casually. "Draco, darling, use your words. No, what?"

He pointed an accusing finger at her. "No, you are not shagging Ronald Weasley!"

"Fine. I'm not shagging Ronald Weasley." Pansy shrugged.

"Wait, really?"

"Of course not." Draco relaxed for a minute, starting to breathe again only to choke as Pansy smirked, "His sister, however..."

Once he'd regained his dignity after a extended coughing fit that Pansy's smug face seemed quite disinclined to ignore, he cleared his throat. "That's a bit low even for you, isn't it?"

Pansy's face reddened. "That's a bit rich, coming from you. Have you perhaps forgotten that their family came out of the war a little higher in status than, say, the Malfoys? Not that higher than mud's hard, of course," she spat.

"Is that why you're sleeping with her?" Draco shot back. "Regaining a little favor in the eyes of your doting public?"

"Fuck you," Pansy snarled, shooting to her feet. As she stormed through the flat, shoving past Draco as she went, she called back, "For your information, I'm not sleeping with her to make myself look better. I'm _dating_ her because she's a good fucking person, and she makes me happy!"

The bedroom door slammed, rattling the picture frames on the wall. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and puffed out a breath, then reached out to fix a photo of him, Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne from their sixth year that had been knocked crooked. The younger Pansy blew him a kiss, while his own image looked as haughty as his strained face would allow. 

The flat was silent, the only sounds the whistle of the antique kettle and the splash of tea being poured into the china service Pansy pretended wasn't her only set. Levitating the tray, he knocked on the bedroom door with his free hand, swallowing a smirk when it opened immediately as Pansy made grabby hands for the tea.

"I'm fairly certain you only pick fights with me so that I'll make you tea," he teased.

Pansy's face was a mask as she traced the rim of her cup, sat primly on the edge of her bed. "I don't pick fights, darling, I finish them."

He sighed. "Look, Pans, I'm sorry. Old habits and all. What I meant was... well... not to be indelicate, but isn't she engaged?"

In an instant, Pansy got a sly look on her face, and Draco became very, very afraid. "Oh, that? She and Potter broke things off. You needn't fret about preserving her virtue, if you're worried."

His jaw dropped, ignoring her unseemly snickering as his mind attempted to bend around the bomb she had so carelessly dropped. "They _what_? No. What? When?" he demanded. "I didn't hear that!"

"Oh, didn't you? Hm, no matter, it was ages ago," Pansy giggled airily. Draco knew better.

Indeed, when the special edition _Evening Prophet_ flew in the window not twenty minutes later, headlines screaming with pictures of both Draco's mortal enemy and his apparent ex-fiancee, Draco dropped his head into his hands. "How long, exactly, is 'ages ago'?

Pansy tipped her face up to the whitewashed ceiling, considering. "Well. At least eight hours, I suspect. The _Prophet_ must be slipping."


End file.
